


Stranger Days

by ellethom



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Because some people have all the luck, Birthdays on Halloween, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:53:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8428624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellethom/pseuds/ellethom
Summary: Brienne hates the holiday, Tyrion keeps it legal, and Jaime is an ass.





	1. In Which Brienne Dreams of Rotary Phones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ikkiM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/gifts).



> So our favorite High Priestess of Jaime and Brienne-ness is experiencing a birthday today, I wanted to celebrate with fic. 
> 
> Because why not?

“I know how you feel, but it’s just a party, Wench. One party. C’mon how bad could it be?”

She sighed into her phone. “You know how I feel about Stranger’s Day.” she huffed.

“And parties.” he finished for her. His characteristic smirk, impossible to see, crawled over her skin. “C’mon Brienne. Three years, I have been asking you for three years.”

Jaime had gone from sexpot to petulant five year old so fast that Brienne felt a little dizzy.

“I have a lot of work to get done this weekend.” she tried. Damn the man and damn her inability to say no to him. The last two times he invited her to his brother’s legendary Stranger’s Day parties, she had been able to wiggle out. But, at some point in the last year they had gotten closer. Her ditching him this year would be more personal than it had the last few times. 

And yet, she still tried. “You know, I have this thing.”

“What thing?” he asked her. Brienne glanced around her cramped office and looked through stacks of files on her desk as if the magical solution was hiding somewhere between client profiles and TPR reports. 

“It's a thing, Jaime. I have to attend.” The sun was starting to fade into the buildings across from her, she watched from her seventh story window and shaded her eyes as a bit of sunlight streamed through her open windows. “Don't make that face!!”

He smothered what she knew would be a laugh. “I am not making any face, other than my usual one. And, you are a terrible liar. How have you survived the business world this long with an honest mug like that?”

“Honorable business practices are still heavily valued in--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blah blah blah Honor, blah blah blah darkside. We have had this conversation a few times before. And stop changing the subject. My brother’s parties are legendary and I think you’d have a good time. Maybe find someone special so your father can ease up a little.”

He was both right and merciless in his offer. Her father had seen the future and it involved an apartment full of cats. 27 was nowhere near old age and her father just wanted to see her happy at some point. “That is so misogynistic of you, Jaime. Do you really believe a woman’s worth is only between her legs?”

“Whoa, way to deflect the real issue, Wench.”

“And you are only proving my point with that antiquated nickname. Seriously?” she wanted to hang up on him, and found herself missing the old telephones that gave such a satisfying crunch when slammed on blonde, arrogant assholes. 

“You know you love it.” He fired back. 

“I do not. In fact I just stated that in my rebuttal. And, might I add, you just mentioned I am incapable of lying, which means that I am telling you the truth!” Oh gods why was he so infuriating? Why did she even answer his call? Why is she still talking to him?

Just why?

“Soooo,” he said after a short pause. “Week from Friday, then?” 

“No,” 

“It's at my place this year, apparently there was some sort of incident last year which caused his condo association to put in oddly specific restrictions.”

“No,” she said again.

“You don't have to wear a costume. Most people end up naked halfway through the night anyway.”

Brienne ran her hand over her face. She had heard the stories from Margaery enough times to know that the COO of Lannister Holdings went full on Saturnalian at the drop of a shot. “What part of ‘no’ are you failing to comprehend?” 

Jaime let loose a sigh from the other end of the connection. It was a sigh of resignation, and until he started speaking again, Brienne thought she had finally ended the entire issue.

No such luck.

“I’m pulling the card, Brienne.” he said simply.

No.

“I didn't want to do it, Wench, but you have left me no choice.”

“Don't you dare!” she said. The sun had fully dipped below the buildings across the street and sounds of the emptying offices assured her it was time to leave. “We agreed never to discuss it, ever.” She was whispering now, as if just mentioning the issue would evoke everyone to barge into her office and be party to the entire sordid tale. 

“We did.” Jaime chuckled and Brienne felt a sudden rush to go to the 100th floor where he was definitely smirking and chuckling and preening and smash his stupid, beautiful face. “And you also insisted that you owed me one. You sounded like a Lannister in that moment.”

“I was grateful!” 

“And I was proud.” He was grinning. She was certain he was making that face. The Victory Lap Face. Usually she enjoyed it, being on the same side of the building his Victory Face always ended with free sushi and a open bar. She had been in enough meetings to know the face he made when he had won. 

Damn him. “You are taking advantage of that whole thing Jaime Lannister!”

“The Honorable Brienne Tarth is ducking out on a favor? A return of a favor no less. What was all that about honorable business practices--”

“Asshole.” she bit. It had been the one time she had to rely on someone else. His insistence of payback now only served to further prove her own code of never asking anyone for anything. 

Stupid Freshman mixers.

Stupid Jello shots. 

Stupid Ron Connington and his stupid Maidens Gone Wild franchise. 

The silence drew between them, he was never quiet. “Brienne, listen. I’m not going to Lord something over your head.”

“First time for everything.” she bit. 

“I’m not going to hold you to that. I did a favor for a friend and made sure those videos from college never made it on that idiot’s site.” She heard Jaime sigh. “I thought we were friends. I thought I could ask you as a friend. I just don't want to be pawed at this thing. My brother is great, I love him to pieces, but he has a skewed view of male to female relations.”

“No shit.” Brienne felt the heat of her blush creeping around the edges of her face. It was the image of Jaime being handled, pawed by other women. Smaller women. Women with free range breasts and beautiful faces.

So unlike her own.

Women that actually stood a chance with him. “You could have lead with that.” She said, feeling the anger and fear leaching from her. 

“Where’s the fun in that, Tarth?” he purred. 

He had been a good friend to her. Their lunches and time spent away from the office had come to mean so much to her. So much that the thought of him going to that party alone gave her something more than courage. “If you needed a bodyguard, all you had to do was ask.”

“A body guard? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” His breath caught, audible across the distance. “Though, I may, in fact need some body guarding at other times, if you’re interested.”

“You are insufferable in your arrogance. As if I would want to guard you from the masses of oversexed and undereducated women you tend to attract. In fact, I am half tempted to leave you to them.”

“And break your solemn vow of guarding my body?” 

“I’m hanging up.” Brienne had her finger poised on the angry red button on the screen. 

“So, Friday night next?” He said as if in no great rush “I’d advise something sexy, short skirt, low neckline.”

She huffed into the phone, suddenly feeling like leaving him to the grasping hordes. “Yeah, it's a yes. But I am NOT wearing a costume.”

“Does that mean you’ll be naked then?”

“Jaime! For gods sakes! I can still leave you to your own devices.”

“Been doing that way too long, Wench. Meet me at my place. I’ll make sure you don't get mauled, either.”

“As if,” she angled into her coat and ended the call. The man could talk a septon into a strip club. She threw her phone into her backpack and knew she would spend the next week dreading the entire thing.


	2. In Which Tyrion Ensures legalities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorta smutty? Like I think my parents could read it, but I am still not safe from Sister Mary Agnes.
> 
> Oh well

She’d spent that week both dreading and oddly excited about the party. Brienne held more insecurities than a Woody Allen movie, she was aware of that, knew them all by name. Her insecurities had kept her warm over the years. Tonight, she wanted to be someone else. As she pointed her sensible car towards Jaime’s house, she wondered if that was the lure for most people. To be able to shirk off a life of dreary mediocrity and become someone else for one night a year.

She certainly wasn't buying into it.

It was odd that, having decided to show up at the latest she could get away with, there were still no cars in the driveway. Jaime lived on a cul-du-sac inside of an over managed subdivision of homes that screamed old money and questionable gentility. She slid into the spot next to Jaime’s Giant Fucking SUV. She had tried to talk him down from buying the damn thing in the first place, he, in turn pointed out that the seats in back folded down. “Easy access,” he had assured her. “You know, for whatever.”

She hadn't wanted to drive there by herself, but Margaery had been oddly reticent about sharing a ride over, even with her offer of Designated Driver status. Sansa had only squeaked and turned red when she asked if they could share the ride over. Like a well programmed bot, Sansa had launched into some speech about riding with Pod and the mail clerks at the office who had already too many people in their Dorne Dart.

Whatever, Brienne thought as she flung herself out of her car and wobbled on the heels she hadn't wanted to wear. That’s why you never rely on people. 

The neighborhood was oddly silent. At 8:30 at night she had at least expected loud music and the vague stirrings of the outdoor orgies she had been warned of from the previous years. Tyrion Lannister had even shoved a wad of condoms into her pocket two days ago with a slap on the ass and a hearty. “Hope you have a good time.” Then, offered her a form to sign absolving him of any and all harm that may come to her during said ‘good time.’

Whatever. Lannisters were weird.

The double doors to the palatial home loomed in front of her as she made her way across the immaculate lawn. 

Shouldn't there be more noise and...bodies? 

The door swung open as she raised her hand to knock. A tall man with greasy hair slicked back into a greasier coif gave her an exasperated glare. “Fookin’ Hells. Took you long enough!”

“Is this, are you...the party?’ she asked in a barrage of confusion.

“Is in full swing by now, and I probably missed all the hot action. Now, I gotta pray that the bird I end up with tonight is at least height weight proportioned and has all her original teeth.”

“I’m sorry?” Confusion wasn't even in the same neighborhood at this point. This sweaty man was hurling words at her, and Brienne could not decipher them fast enough. 

“No sorrier than me! “ He said, The stranger pulled himself out of Jaime’s front door and made to move toward her. “Best night of the year and I gotta help the no fun brother.”

Brienne took a long legged step back before falling off of the raised stoop that had lead to the door.

“Bronn, what the hell did you do?” Blond hair loomed over her sprawled form. Two pairs of hands lifted her from the lawn and Jaime was brushing errant grass from her ass.

Slowly.

Brienne’s eyes darting between the two men. Once level, she pushed Jaime’s hands away from her backside. “What the hell is going on here?” She turned her gaze upon Jaime. He wasn't dressed for the kind of party that she had been prepared for. In fact, he looked as if he were off to some fancy dinner party where you had to wear a jewelry and a bra. Both of those would leave her underdressed. “And where is the party?”

“At Tyrion’s.” Bronn shrugged. “Which is where I am off to now.” Bronn saluted the blond man and made for the road. His car was a dinosaur from at least two decades before the gas crisis. Jaime offered her a sheepish grin before holding his front door by the knob. “So, are you coming in?” he asked 

Brienne frowned, crossed her arms and shook her head. “So what the hell is going on here, Jaime? Why am I here if the party is there?”

He inclined his head toward the open door. “Can we finish this inside? My neighbors talk. “

“So do you, yet you never seem to let the open air besmirch your loquacious tendencies.”

“Nice to see that ‘Word A Day’ calendar Tyrion gave you last Winterfest has come in handy.” He grabbed her shoulder in a nearly unfriendly manner. “Now, get inside.”

Brienne had half a mind to shrug off his hand, but, as usual, allowed her curiosity to get the better of her common sense. 

It wasn’t the first time she had been in his house, it wasn't even the hundredth. But, something was different this time. A lot of somethings. The sound of Beethoven came low from some speaker inside the living room. The front foyer where they stood held a promise of a greater growing scent. “Jaime, what’s going on?”

He put his finger to his lips and took his arm from her shoulder only to be wrapped around her waist. He lead her through the large rooms and through the back onto the patio by the pool. 

Faerie lights and patio lanterns were strung around the patio and created some fantastical version of Jaime’s backyard. He stood at her side, grinning from ear to ear. “Jaime, what did you do?”

He placed his head on her shoulder and gestured to the yard with his free hand. “I know how you hate parties, so I thought we would have a quiet evening at home.”

“You lied.” she accused.

“Lannisters do that from time to time.” he grinned.

She shoved his head off of her shoulder and and stepped back toward the inside of the house. Suddenly, everything made sense. Margaery refusing a ride, Sansa suddenly asking a zillion and one questions about weird shit 

What’s your favorite food?

What’s your favorite color?

Which flower would you be and why?

At first she thought Sansa was doing another one of those stupid quizzes from that shitty rag she is always reading, the one with all the women too pretty for reality. But no, apparently she was working for the enemy.

They all were.

All of her ‘friends.’

“You planned this?” 

“Well, those tacky lights weren’t gonna hang themselves.” he \cantored. “And don't get me started on finding irises that exactly matched your eyes.”

She took another step back and shook her head. “You planned this? Why?”

It was his turn to be confused. “Why?” he scratched his head and took another look around the back yard. “Why would a man do this for a woman?”

She looked around for anything that would tip her off to the cameras, or the waiting spectators who would watch her make a fool of herself. But they were the only two in the large yard, and Jaime’s privacy fence was far too high to harbor anyone looking to jump out and mock her. 

He was mocking her all on is own. Which was somehow so much worse.

She turned then, running through the house to the front door. 

“Brienne, Brienne, wait. What?” Jaime followed close at her heels, dogged as always. 

Brienne power walked through Jaime’s living room and out to the foyer. He caught her as she made it to the little table by the front door. Jaime’s hand on her arm turned her around to face his angry glare. It was the turn that ended her, the twist of her already weakened foot from the first fall and the thrice damned shoes she thought would get attention.

His attention.

Though now she had his full attention and it landed her on the floor of his foyer, Jaime, clipped by her flailing arms, lost his own balance and landed on top of her. 

“OOmf.” she mewled as he landed on her. 

“Well, now that I have your full attention.” Jaime quirked the corner of his mouth into a lopsided grin that had starred in too many of Brienne’s spank bank. 

She lifted her arms and tried to move from under him. “Are you hurt?” he asked, though the concern in his eyes was joined with something else. Something entirely feral. For an instant, Brienne knew full well what a gazelle felt like out in the wilds of Myrrh. 

“Jaime, get up off me.” She heard the words pour from her mouth, but the actually cadence was less insistent than what she had intended. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked again. This time, he rolled toward her , his torso level with her breasts.

“No,” 

“Good,” Jaime leaned into her, his mouth so soft and warm and strong. She wanted to crawl inside of his kiss and room their for a long winter. 

She was melting into Jaime’s parquet oak floors. He would have to mop her up after this, with a heavy duty mop. 

He released her mouth, so intent in the act, Brienne didn't realize she had stopped breathing. “That was so much better than what i had been imagining.” he smiled. 

Brienne brought her hands to his hard chest. She wanted to shove him away but could not really rationalize the action. Her mind made the movement of pushing him off her, but her body refused to get the memo. “What is this?” she asked.

“Something new, at least I hope it's something new. Maybe something old. I have wanted you for so long, I couldn’t.” He shook his head then stared at her lips again. “I needed to know if you felt the same way. I thought you did, but.”

She lifted onto her elbows, the music still pouring from the far distance of the cavernous house. “What did you think by doing this? You betrayed my trust and got all of my friends to help you do it.”

“So,” Jaime said drawing circle along her thigh. “If I had planned to throw you a surprise name day party it would be betrayal?”

“Of course not!” Brienne insisted. 

Jaime frowned above her, still eyeing her with all the reverence of a hungry five year old at BurgerKhaleesi. “Then how is this any different?” His hands were suddenly everywhere, Brienne inhaled him, his scent, his touch the feel of his body on top of hers was more than reality; it was cellular.

This time, she did shove him away and scooted to sit along the far wall of the anteroom. “It is different because a name day party isn't a mockery.” 

“A mockery?” He blew a heavy breath through his perfect lips. “Brienne, I know you have had some bad experiences, but even I am not that jaded.” Jaime ran his hand across his face and stood up. He walked over to her, even in a now crumpled expensive suit he was still half a god. “I have known you for three years, and I have wanted you for two years and 364 days.” He leaned down and took her hand. 

Brienne allowed him to help her to stand. She slipped out of her uncomfortable shows and was surprised to find herself still holding his hand. “You can't be serious?”. "And what happened to the other two days?" 

"Well, you were trying to beat me down with legal mumbo-jumbo." he smirked. 

Brienne shook her head, "I should have drowned you in that stupid fountain in the court building on first sight." 

He pulled her closer, molded his body into hers. “Can we jump past the part that you are surprised at all of this and get to the part where you tell me how you feel? I have steaks to tend to and a really expensive bottle of wine on the patio. “ His arm slipped back around her waist. “Unless you would rather go to the party, but I gotta tell you Wench, the first guy to ogle you is going to meet with a terrible fate.”

“Jaime, this isn't. I mean I should go. Home. i should go home.”

He stopped then, his hands came around and pulled her to him by the backside. As their bodies became flush against each other, Brienne felt something poke her in the thigh. “Are you seriously telling me you would rather be home alone? Would rather leave me alone to my own devices. Again.”

“Again?” she mewled as his mouth trailed over her neck, her shoulder.

“Do you have any idea how many times you’ve caused this? Honestly I could sue you for damages. I’d win too.” Jaime nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “MMMM wonder how much I could get in punitive damages.” His mouth did angelic things to her neck. Brienne writhed under him, he responded with a growl. “I am definitely going to lawyer you so hard. The way I lawyered that red headed prick who tried to share pics of you that only I should get to see.”

“I did take my top off,” she grinned and slid her hands over his still clad back. 

“And yet you are still fully clothed right now.” Jaime tugged at the hem of her dress. “Damages. And mental pain and suffering. “

She tried to protest. She really did. There were words that ran through her head. Fierce words of anger, of betrayal of telling him how much of an asshole move this whole thing was. Of differences in height and looks. Of a fridge with leftovers and a carton Benjin and Daario’s Mocha almond blast that she simply must finish.

Alone.

But the words never came, they formed somewhere around his lips as he took her mouth again, but were sucked right out into oblivion as his kisses became fiercer, hungrier and more fire than she could ever put out. 

When they came up for air, Jaime smiled, his hand on her cheek, his other took her own hand and lead her again to the patio.

“Bronn was here to help get everything together. I told him he couldn't leave until you came. He wasn't happy.”

“The greasy guy?” she asked as he pulled out her chair.”

“My brother’s driver come bodyguard, and the only one willing to take a few dragons and get to the party late.”

“The party.” She said as he slipped into the seat across from her. “Shouldn't you be there? I mean your brother is expecting you.”

“In about an hour, my brother will be too drunk to notice and too busy with the female revellers to even care.” He slipped his hand under the thin blue material of her dress. “Fuck the party. Fuck the orgies and fuck everything else that is outside of this dress.”

Brienne gasped as his fingers danced across her nipples, “And while we are at it, fuck the steaks and the backyard faerie land.”

“It's beautiful “ she sighed into his mouth. “We should--”

Jaime moved himself over her thigh, she was aware of how serious he really was. “I’d rather fuck you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Last chapter later today.
> 
> And smut. 
> 
> There is smut.
> 
> Or something like it.


End file.
